


Father of Mine

by Dorksidefiker



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:18:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorksidefiker/pseuds/Dorksidefiker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has their own way of celebrating Father's Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father of Mine

Seraphina was long past marking individual days; the calendar she would have used was utterly alien to the watery little globe that was now her own, known to less than a handful of sentient beings and totally meaningless to anyone else.

Individual days mattered only to those for whom they might be finite, or for those who were simply not _old_ enough to understand how meaningless they were. Mother Nature marked only the changing of the seasons, for they were her duty. As much as she delighted in the wild energy of the storm, she also found a simple pleasure in the orderly progression of spring to summer to fall to winter. Everything else might change, but there would _always_ be the seasons.

Of course, there would also always be those who felt no need to acknowledge the seasons and would kick up snowstorms in the early part of summer simply because it amused them.

There were times when Seraphina wanted to take Jack Frost by the throat and throttle him until his head popped off.

_At least he had the good sense to limit the storm to the North Pole._

A small consolation; Jack Frost’s little snow storm had disrupted all of Seraphina’s carefully laid out weather patterns. It would take her _ages_ to set things right again, and in the meantime, she would have to deal with the very real headache the disruptions were causing her. It was almost as bad as the year the volcano had practically erased summer -- and at least _that_ had been her own fault. She’d deserved the headache.

_I’m going to dump **him** into a volcano,_ she thought murderously as she hit the edge of the storm. Wind and snow parted for her as her butterflies rose to dissipate the clouds above. It might have made for a wonderfully dramatic gesture to end the storm all at once, but Seraphina preferred to walk lightly through the world. Her butterflies would push and pull the forces Jack had called down and return them to their proper places, or at least as close as could be managed.

Then she would shake him until his teeth rattled.

Seraphina found the little pest not far from North’s workshop, trying to call the storm back. She felt a small thrill of satisfaction as the clouds continued to dissipate. There would be no more snow for him to...

Build a surprisingly accurate Snow-North.

Seraphina set down lightly, barely disturbing the white powder as she landed. Jack looked gratifyingly surprised by her arrival, landing awkwardly in a snow bank before he let out a nervous laugh. This wasn’t the first time she’d confronted him about his unseasonable weather habit, and it wasn’t likely to be the last.

But... the snow sculpture was unexpected.

“ _Explain_ ,” she snapped, letting the wind blow her hair about in a way that she knew made her seem twice as large as she really was.

“Just having a little fun.”

Oh, she was going to do _horrible_ things to the boy, she really was. She grabbed him by the hood of his sweatshirt and hauled him up, bare feet dangling in the air. “I find myself rather lacking in patience today, seeing as I have to realign several hot and cold fronts to prevent a mass of super storms from sweeping across the globe. Rain will fall where none should, crops will wither and die in unseasonal cold -- leaving your precious humans to starve, I might add -- and I am currently suffering from a pounding headache. So please... do tell me about this _fun_ you’re having.”

A slight exaggeration on her part, but judging from the look that flashed across Jack’s face, she’d succeeded in making her point. Jack twisted and squirmed until Seraphina let him fall back to the ground, and he didn’t look at her as he got to his feet and dusted the snow from his clothes. “Making North something.”

Seraphina gave the Snow-North another critical look. It was actually an excellent bit of construction, however temporary is would prove. The likeness was unmistakable, right down to the cheery grin. “So I see.”

“It’s Father’s Day,” Jack added. “You know, when we do nice things for the big guy in our lives? Breakfast in bed, ugly ties...”

“Perhaps _you_ would be better off limiting yourself to feeding North and giving him unattractive clothing,” Seraphina said distantly. Damn and double damn Jack Frost, he’d managed to distract her from her _very_ righteous fury, and he probably didn’t even realize...

“Like you’d know anything about it,” Jack muttered sullenly, earning himself a cuff to the back of his head.

“Child, what you don’t know about me could fill _volumes_.” She wrapped herself in the wind, sending a few of her butterflies scouting with a wave of her fingers. Pitch was no creature of habit, but she’d known him long enough and well enough that finding him would be no great effort. “Be glad I have other matters to attend to today.”

She left him there with a few of her butterflies to stand guard, just in case Jack took it into his head to summon up another snow shower to help him finish his masterpiece.

 

Even defeated and reduced to a shadow of himself, Pitch Black continued to do his duty. Seraphina doubted that he even realized what he was doing; he could no more stop bringing fear to children than she could stop the cycle of the seasons. To even try would drive them mad.

Madder, in Pitch’s case.

Seraphina watched him from the shelter of the gathering storm clouds. This town hadn’t been due for a storm, but Jack Frost’s need to honor North that day had stirred it up. She could have torn it apart, but that would have only served to cause more abnormal weather elsewhere. Besides... the storm could be made to serve her purpose.

Pitch flitted from shadow to shadow, pausing briefly beneath a street light to raise his face to the skies. Seraphina doubted he was truly aware of her presence, but he likely realized that _someone_ was watching. The Tsar, perhaps. His lips curled back in a sneer, and he continued on his way, sliding through a cracked open window. Seraphina followed, all but invisible in her grey cloak. A dying tree barely clung to life just outside the window of Pitch’s prey, most of it’s branches already bare of leaves.

_Perfect._

The child slept easily, a gentle smile on his face, utterly unaware of what had come creeping into his room. Pitch loomed over him like a horrible parody of a loving parent come to check on their little darling, making Seraphina’s stomach twist. Some small, distant part of her demanded that she come to the child’s defense, so that he might have only sweet dreams...

But the child was nothing to her. Just one more brief mortal, gone from this world soon enough. Pitch was her _father_ , twisted shadow that he might be, and he would be with her far longer.

Pitch’s long fingers brushed the child’s brow, sending a shiver through the boy. He whimpered in his sleep, fingers feebly twitching as though clutching at something. Pitch stood back a moment to admire his handy work, even as the nightmare drove his prey into wakefulness.

That was when Seraphina struck. The wind rose in an eldritch howl, dead branches scraping across the window like long, awful fingers. Lightning arced down from the sky, followed by the deafening crack of thunder as the boy, still caught in between sleeping and true wakefulness, bolted upright.

“Believe,” she whispered, “believe, believe.”

For a moment, the boy looked right at Pitch Black, and he _saw_.

He screamed like a dying rabbit, and Seraphina felt rather pleased with herself.

**Author's Note:**

> [Jack with Butterflies](http://ksclaw.tumblr.com/post/53145631611/she-left-him-there-with-a-few-of-her-butterflies) by [KS_Claw](http://archiveofourown.org/users/KS_Claw/pseuds/KS_Claw).


End file.
